The gentle waves soothed me as I steered the ship towards the Isle of Bears. Looking to the motion apparatus above my head a thought came to me. "That's not normal now is it?" so with some illusion and alteration magic I made it look like a normal sail so that bone covered ship with only the captain manning it stands out slightly less.
That took probably oh, I don't know an hour or so? Because after that I cleaned up the bodies on deck and that only took a few minutes with the help of telekinesis. And I was probably only halfway to my destination. So with an abundance of time I got out of my armor placing back on its stand and grabbing a whetstone for Glacier. Heading back up to the top deck I went to the main deck and setting up a stool behind the wheel began sharpening the frozen blade. Slowly as I entered the rhythmic motions of sharpening the blade my mind drifted back to my home and my family.
"What's on your mind father?"
Behind me stood my second born Fergus. Named for my dear friend's long departed brother. A boy of thirteen who had my beloved hair but my face and eyes.
"Nothing my boy, just reminiscing on simpler times. But why are you here? Last I checked you were supposed to be training with Vilkas on your shield work.'' After a few moments of silence I hear the rustling of grass as he sits next to me, the forests of Falkreath being the only noise around us.
"There's a girl in Whiterun who lives with Lydia. Lucia?" he glances at me from the side. I grin at that.
"The Girl who works at the Bannered Mare with Ysolda? What of her?" my son said nothing and slowly began to turn red. "Ah I see. Well, you are getting to that age after all. I suppose you want to know where to put it hmm?" If the poor lad wasn't blushing already he turned to face me face as red as the snowberries in the northern province.
"Father!" my laughter must have echoed across the mountains that day…
A small cut on my finger is what brought me out of my reminiscing. Looking down to the small cut on my little finger and the small amount of frost building I put the finger into my mouth and began to suck on it. Looking about I can see my destination close enough that I can see the group of people waiting to greet me. Or more likely to question me. Ah well, my first impression of the locals already isn't all that high so unless these men tried to kill me at first contact then things can't be much worse.
The small dingy that came next to my ship was occupied by about four men. All of whom wore massive cloaks of fur and wore weapons of steel openly on their person.
"Hail!" one of them called a tall young lad handsome enough. With dark black hair cut short clean shaven with strong willful eyes. "Who might be the captain of this vessel?" Looking over the edge in simple yet elegant red robed cloths I had worn to the Thalmor Embassy I responded.
"Ymir of Bruma! A wanderer from a far of land known as Tamriel. I come seeking glory and adventure!" while not true it is certainly something that I will be doing. The men grumble for a time before once more the young leader spoke.
"You must forgive me Ser Ymir but I've never heard of a land known as Tamriel and I find it hard to believe that you've come here just for a adventure." I let out a loud laugh at that one that seems to startle them.
"That does not surprise me! After all I got this way from heading so north I started to go south!" I let out another laugh before looking back town to the group. "But enough about me who are you, boy to address me so arrogantly?" The men around him drew their weapons making my mood sour. Just as my frown formed the boy put up his arm to the men.
"I am Lord Jeor Mormont, son of Lord Jeorge Mormont and the heir to Bear Island." Ah that would explain the attitude. Looking around there were no other boats nearby and the deck was long since clean of the mess of my first encounter with the locals. "Tell you what Lord Mormont. Instead of you and your men standing on some shab little fishing boat why don't you come up here so we may speak as men?"
The young lord nodded and I began to lower the ropes to raise up the dingy. Once they called that they had attached the ropes I began to pull. Now I'm strong but lifting a boat of four fully grown men fully armed was no easy task at my age. But nonetheless through the power of stable footing, leverage and divine strength given to me at birth I managed to pull the dingy up. The men on the ship looked around in suspension at the ship. While the Dev Aveza was impressive as a normal vessel the real majesty of it was when it was in flight which at least for now is not a possibility.
Walking up to the young lord Jeor I got a better look at him. A strong jaw and high cheekbones showed him of a gentler birth. But the hard weathered skin on his hand and face showed a spirit that reminded me of my kinsmen back home. We stood looking at one another for some time. He was likely doing the same thing that I was, looking at each other noting small flaws with our features and the small things that made us human. When a heavy silence fell over us once more I held out my hand. My hand hung there for a time he was likely inspecting it trying to find the smallest contradiction in my story. Eventually however he took my forearm and shook it well with a nod I said "A pleasure to make your acquaintance." With a smile he responded "the pleasure is all mine."
After that we spoke for a time. Small things like our families and our homelands. I told him I was a widower and a father of three with my second son giving me a grandchild before I left home. He told me of his Father who at this point was sick and could barely get out of bed he often had wet coughing fits that would leave him breathless. He spoke of his sister Meage the "She-Bear" , an apt name I'm sure. He also told me of his family's lineage with an amount of pride that surprised me. In Skyrim life could be very short, babes could catch cold and die within a fortnight and young men and women often go out seeking adventure and glory either as mercenary as I did or simply as wandering busy bodies like Mjoll. And as such Nords had no tradition of heraldry like other provenances. He spoke of his family creed "Here we Stand" he told me they were his words as bear island is the farthest reaching hold in Westeros or more specifically the North and how they stood against Wilding and Iron born raids which I suppose are who I dealt with on my arrival. He told me of the Dragonlords, the kings of this land, the Targaryens. Supposedly less than two hundred fifty years ago a trio of siblings took the seven warring kingdoms and united them under one banner. Well, they conquered five and then the North bent the knee and Dorne, a desert kingdom to the far south was never conquered in fact they have only been a part of the seven kingdoms for less than a century. It was cute in a way. These kingdoms had been united under an empire (for that is what it was) for a shorter period then the fourth era back home. I knew Elves who were older than this dynasty. But it was explained to me when I mentioned how young this land was that there were thousands of years of history from before just not all of it is well documented or entirely true. We eventually did move down into the hold where we sat and drank some of the remaining mead in the kettle. None of them had had mead before but were quite pleased by it. Especially the bear cub lordling.
"If I might ask Ser, why come to Wetseros at all? I can't imagine why a man your age is still held by wanderlust. Surely you had enough of that when you were young." Ah I see the mead is doing his work if he's able to say such things so easily. I take a sip of my own drink then I answered.
"Truthfully, my destination was not Westeros in particular. You see, I'm an archeologist of sorts. I spend my time wandering old ruins of my ancestors trying to learn as much about them as possible. And in my youth I spent quite a lot of my time plundering said runes for bounty and things to put on display on the museum I assist in maintaining. Although, then I was just a relic hunter, now I'm a full part owner. But back on track here I was heading towards the northern continent Atmora when I arrived here. I followed the coasts for any intact settlement and I ended up here." Again a half truth. The less I tell but the more I say the better. The young man nodded
"Well then, I must admit that you're a finer companion that I've had in some time and it's been an honor to meet you. And I feel I must repay your generosity with my own and apologize for the way my men acted." Most of the men were had returned upstairs on the main deck so that Lord Mormont and myself could speak in private. I wave my hand at him. "And you have been my only company for at least half a month! Although I did meet some of those wildings a bit further up the bank. Must say I'm glad they are the exception not the rule." The young lord smiled once more. "Then on behalf of the Mormonts of Bear Island I invite you to dine with us tomorrow for supper. We may not be a large or wealthy house but we're a proud one." I do like this boy. Reminds me if Fergus.
"Then by my honor I accept. I'll send some gifts from my collection for your family with you. Here come with me." Before the young lord had the chance to decline I already began to walk down the stairs to the armory.
The young man looked at the things I had with me. Nothing too fabulous by my standards mind you I left all of the Deadric artifacts I had come across in the depths of Deepholm far in the icy steps of Winterhold. And my more legendary weapons such as Chrysamere and Trueflame reside comfortably within the hall of heroes. No, what we had here was my personal workshop. Probably the largest collection of ebony weapons and armor probably since the restrictions on its trade back in the day of the Septems.
"Well? Take what you wish. Save to armor there I don't think a suit of armor that's not made to fit you will do you much good."
Joer looked at me incredulously. "What are these blades made of? I've never seen such steel." He moved to one of the many daggers laying on one of the craft tables, hand wrapping half complete. Lifting the blade and touching the tip of the blade for only a moment before pulling back and dropping the blade. Shaking his hand in some vain attempt to ease the pain his finger tip began to bleep rapidly. Acting fast I tear off a bit of my sleeve and tie a small bandage around his finger in order to stop the bleeding.
"You know, even my newborn grandson knows not to touch the pointy end of a dagger." I smile at him. "Maybe you're still a cub? Learning how to walk and how to fend for yourself?" He turned red at that but he said nothing, it was a rather foolish thing to do. "Still feel free to take one of them. You mentioned your sister uses a spiked club? Perhaps she'd like a proper mace." Moving over to my completed projects I retrieved one of the finer ebony maces I had made. Made in a more simple style with a smaller head at the top but still weighty. Taking it I have is a small toss so that it flips in order to test its balance. Being satisfied with the way it spun I hand it to Joer who seemed surprised at its weight.
"It's heavier than I thought it would be." He takes a few swings and looks at it approvingly. "Yes, I think Meage will love this. But father and I already have blades. And one day I will hold my family's blade Longclaw. I have no need for a new weapon. Do you have something else?" I think for a moment before looking at him.
"I have a collection of rare alcohol you're welcome to a bottle. And for your father it sounds like Pneumonia. So here." Going to the alchemy bench back upstairs I take one of my many healing potions. Pneumonia can be deadly especially for someone who lives in such a damp environment. Heading back down I see Joer looking at Glacier and my Armor. Both sharpened and clean respectively. "I see you like my personal equipment." I say catching him off guard.
"Yes, it is quite the sight. I'd hate to face that down in battle. Did you make it as well?" I look to the armor before me. Memories of the days and nights that myself and Eorlund spent designing the armor to be as functional as possible while still having a certain flair that screamed "Dragonborn". The smiths who had gathered to help make the armor and the symbol of Nordic unity that it was.
"I had some help. But yes, I did." Joer let out a low whistle.
"Armor fit for a king." I say nothing at that only thinking of the Jagged crown of dragons teeth that almost sat atop the helmet inside of the two great horns.
He then took the healing potion and a bottle of Surilie Brothers Wine from the third era. With another firm handshake we parted ways and I prepared for my dinner with the locals the next evening.
So some things of note. I wanted to get this out last Saturday but I just never got around to it and I wanna try and release these chapters during weekends. Uh what else oh yeah! So im an idiot and Ymir is a hell of a lot older then I thought. So my initial math of him being 58 is still correct… at 201 the start of the game… and it's been 14 years… that makes him 72 in this story. Which is way too old for any sort of high flying dragon slaying nonsense of the start of the game but you know what? If the Nerevarine gets to be a lobster person and not age and the Hero of Kavach gets to mantle Sheogorath then my big old nord man gets to stay in his physical prime longer do to eating dragon souls. But yeah beyond that read review and I hope everyone had a good spring break and if you didn't get one I hope you didn't want to strangle anybody at work?